


Unexpected Gifts

by JamieOlivier



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:35:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21738463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamieOlivier/pseuds/JamieOlivier
Summary: This fic was written for Weasleys, Witches, & Writers Facebook group’s Flash Comp. My chosen main character is George Weasley, and the prompt for this Edition was Common Room.Notes: I do not own anything in the Harry Potter universe.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/George Weasley
Comments: 6
Kudos: 69
Collections: Weasleys Writing War - Flash Comp Edt 1





	Unexpected Gifts

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [WeasleysWitchesWriters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeasleysWitchesWriters/pseuds/WeasleysWitchesWriters) in the [Weasleys_Writing_War_Flash_Comp_Edt_1](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Weasleys_Writing_War_Flash_Comp_Edt_1) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> Fastest fingers will claim this prompt as your main character. One claim per prompt! If you drop your claim, you are ineligible from the competition in all capacities (participating, alpha/beta, and/or voting). Use the chosen prompt character as the main character in your story. Use the required verbatim for the Summary & Notes. Do not use excessive tags, only standard tags are allowed in this competition. Good Luck!

The portrait swung open on silent hinges. George quickly glanced around the common room and snuck inside, closing the portrait behind him as quietly as possible, unable to believe he’d made it back undetected. Fred would be so pleased in the morning when they were able to reap the benefits of the prank he’d spend the last hour setting up. 

The only light in the room came from the twinkling of the lights on the Christmas tree in the corner and the fire burning low in the grate, but it was enough to see by. In addition to the tree, which was covered in all manner of baubles and tinsel, garland ringed every doorway and window, enormous bows hung from the walls, and a sprig of mistletoe hung above the archway where the two sets of stairs to the dorms met. Finally, on the mantle, the family of dolls which lived in the cuckoo-style clock had been charmed to sing Christmas songs every hour on the hour.

He was nearly to the stairs when a small, pitiful noise caught his attention and he froze. Turning, he scanned all of the chairs before his gaze landed on the sofa in front of the fireplace. Creeping closer, he instantly recognized the bushy hair sticking out of what he’d initially thought was just a balled up blanket.

Torn between self-preservation - she was a Prefect, after all, and curfew was only a distant memory - and checking on the girl who had become something of a friend, his indecision ended immediately when she sniffled again.

“Hermione?” 

She didn’t answer him, only pulled the blanket higher as she curled tighter in on herself.

“What’s wrong?”

“Go ‘way, George.”

“I’m Fred,” he retorted automatically, “not George.”

“Nice try, except I heard the portrait open.” She sniffled again, but still didn’t move. “Fred has been here all night. I assume he’s your alibi for whatever mischief you were off doing.”

He chuckled softly. “One of these days, love, you have to tell us how you do that.”

Hermione lifted a hand and waved him away like a bothersome fly. 

“Not a chance.” He climbed over the back of the sofa and dropped into the space beside her. “Come on, tell your good friend George what’s the matter.”

After a very long moment, the blanket slipped as she sat up slowly. In the dim light from the fire, it wasn’t until she lifted her face that he realized what had happened.

“Oh, Hermione.”

“Go on, laugh,” she demanded weakly, her soft voice completely mismatched to what he was seeing. Scowling at him was the face and body of one Viktor Krum, tears glistening on his lightly stubbled cheeks.

“I would never.” She raised one thick black eyebrow, but George didn’t even crack a smile. “How long ago?”

“Just after everyone went to bed. The present sat on the table all night and when I moved it to make room so I could study, it exploded.”

He winced and she deflated a bit, the motion exaggerated by Krum’s broad shoulders slumping. A quick glance at the clock confirmed it was nearing 1 a.m. Since everyone usually trudged up the stairs around ten, she should return to normal soon. Similar to polyjuice, the effects of the very fine powder Hermione had unknowingly inhaled only lasted three hours. 

“I knew it was you, but I’d hoped… Nevermind. I was being stupid.”

“This wasn’t meant for you,” he said, touching her hand and forcing himself not to recoil because of Krum’s rough skin. “You obviously didn’t see the gift tag, but it was intended for Ron. He’s always suspicious about presents from us so we added a timer, but it wasn’t supposed to go off until tomorrow morning. We assumed he’d take it up to his dorm. It must have activated early when you moved it.”

It seemed his words did little to comfort her. “I assume there’s a counterspell?”

He tapped her already more pert-looking nose with his finger, “Something like that.”

“That’s a relief. At least I won’t still look like my ex at breakfast.” She took a deep breath then shot him a weak smile before leaning forward and stacking her books neatly. She was looking at him expectantly when what she’d said finally registered. 

“Wait. I knew everything that happened last year, but I didn’t realize you two were...”

As he watched, her eyes subtly changed color. They were still brown, but lighter, the bright spots reflecting the glow from the fire. 

“Yeah. It was never going to be more than a summer fling.”

“Too Quidditch-obsessed for you?” he asked, grinning for the first time since he’d heard her crying.

“Sort of. Viktor’s really good at the game, but that’s all he’s good at.”

“Oh ho ho, Miss Granger, do snog and tell.”

“It wasn’t that,” she replied immediately, Krum’s cheeks pinking beneath fine cheekbones which weren’t made for his face. George was shocked by the stab of jealousy which accompanied thoughts of what she could mean. He’d been joking, but had she snogged Krum? Sure, she was growing up and filling out, but since when was he jealous? “I couldn’t talk to him about anything not Quidditch related. And… I decided there was someone here I’d rather be spending time with.”

Those words sobered him quickly. They’d become friends, yes, but despite whatever feelings he may be discovering, he would only ever be ‘and George,’ the younger, quieter half of the mischievous Weasley twins, who’d only managed three OWLs. And Hermione was the brightest witch of her age, a Prefect destined to be Head Girl. She’d probably set her sights on some Ravenclaw, and George wracked his brain to remember if she’d paid attention to anyone specific since term began.

“It doesn’t matter, though,” she continued, squaring her shoulders, completely oblivious to his world imploding. “The counterspell?”

Her excess eyebrows evaporated, leaving behind graceful light brown arches as her skin smoothed out again, the stubble disappearing from her jawline. She was almost completely Hermione again. 

Leaning closer, he focused on her lips - unfortunately still Krum’s. This was the worst possible idea, but he couldn’t let it go. Her breath caught and her hand landed on his chest, stopping him in place.

“What are you doing?”

“Kissing you.”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s utterly ridiculous. There’s no way the cure is a kiss. You’d never prank _Ron_ that way.”

“One kiss, and I promise you’ll be back to normal.” Her shoulders shrunk back to normal at the same time the definition of her chest changed.

“I’m not -- I swear to Merlin, George Weasley, if this --”

He kissed her. He was kissing Viktor Krum’s lips and was probably going to be hexed within an inch of his life as soon as she unfroze, but he couldn’t regret it. With a click, the cuckoo clock’s doors opened as it started softly singing, startling Hermione into motion at the same time her lips softened and thinned. George cringed, preparing himself for the worst, leaving him wholly unprepared when she kissed him back. It was over too soon, and he admired the blush which had appeared on her own cheeks. 

“Well?” 

“Perfect marks, Miss Granger,” he teased seductively. “An experience I’d gladly repeat.”

Her blush darkened as she looked away, fighting the grin which threatened to take over her whole face. “Do I still look like Viktor?”

Taking her hand, he silently rubbed his thumb along the back. When she looked at him again, he held up their joined hands.

“It worked?”

George gasped dramatically, “You doubted me?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Maybe we should try again, make sure it sticks.” Crooking his finger beneath her chin, he started to close the distance between them again.

She stopped him again, this time by standing and grabbing her books then hurrying up the stairs. Disappointment flooding him, George watched her go. After a moment, he made his way to his own bed.

━━✫・*。

“Did you know your brother’s mental?” she called out when they passed her in the common room the next morning on their way to breakfast. “Completely barmy for Krum.”

“Ron?” Fred asked, obviously convinced their prank had worked.

“No. George,” she replied. “Arse. Over. Teakettle.”

She looked so proud of herself, George could only gape at her cheek. Where had this bravado come from after practically running away from him only a few hours earlier? But she offered no explanation, her eyes twinkling merrily. Fine. If it was war she wanted, he intended to play for keeps.

He reached out and took her hand, pulling her close as he started to sing, “ _All I want for Christmas is you_.”

As he sang the final word, he captured her lips, ignoring the surprised gasps of everyone around them, something that became even easier when she smiled into the kiss and wrapped her arms around his neck.

**Author's Note:**

> 


End file.
